


Kiss The Sky

by sangueuk



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 13:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangueuk/pseuds/sangueuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was written in response to this prompt <i>(03) A series of unfortunate events hang Jim up on the way to the ceremony, causing him to seriously and totally not show up. Legit stuff that's not his upfuckery, but of course everyone's all yep, Jim Kirk, love'em and leave'em, and McCoy is kind of crushed. Jim can't really prove he didn't fuck up, so when he eventually arrives, after everyone's gone, he has to make it up to McCoy and woo him all over again and eventually get him to the altar one more time.</i> on Challenge 'Space Married'</p><p>Also, : two things inspired me in this randomness:</p><p>Firstly, <a> Jimi Hendrix and his whole fooling around with the lyrics in Purple Haze </a>substituting “kiss the sky”, for “kiss this guy”  and thereby placing the cornerstone for misheard lyrics love.</p><p>And secondly, a story told by stand up, Ricky Gervais, who told of a friend who replaced some pants, threw the originals out of a train window and was left in his underpants.  Never let it be said that ideas of solely mine – unlike the schmoop which was.</p></blockquote>





	Kiss The Sky

**Kiss The Sky**

 

Two years into the mission and the incessant nagging had paid off. It made five years if you counted the time at the academy.

Jim had tried just one more time - his forehead on Bones' chest, still inside him, still panting, he'd mumbled, " _Please_ fucking marry me you grouchy old bastard."

"Okay. If it'll shut you up."

Then it was Jim dancing naked on the bed to Jimi Hendrix and substituting perfectly good lyrics for Bones-orientated ones (Foxy Bones-y being his favourite although Bones would never have let on) followed by a rendition of Purple Haze.

Bones sipped coffee in the crumpled bed, trying not to grin. "Remind me to hide your music next time we’re on shore leave."

Jim timed his full-length dive perfectly so that he managed to land on the bed next to Bones and sang, "Scuse me, while I kiss this guy!"

And they were kissing and fucking again and it wasn't even 9am yet.

***

Jim hadn't liked spending the night before alone, but Bones had insisted – he’d assured Jim it would add to the excitement but, with nothing but his thoughts for company, the closest he’d came to excitement all night was his bowels going into tailspin. A couple of movies, a massive bowl of chips, a couple of nice, spaced apart wanks, some Tetrok-in-a-bucket which tasted better than the authentic chicken he’d eaten on his last Earth visit, and he felt about as prepared as he could be.

It struck him how long it had been since he'd been completely alone for any length of time.

Despite setting the chronometer, his comm, _and_ arranging for an alarm call from the desk - he'd convinced himself he still might oversleep and miss the wedding.

***

O5:00  
After a fitful night, afraid he might sleep through his alarm calls, Kirk dragged himself out of bed, grabbed a quick coffee and headed out for a run.

And, because today was The Day, he got himself in the mood with what he called his Captain Mix which consisted one hundred percent of his Dad's collection. George had been into music from the mid twentieth century, Hendrix, The Doors, The Stones and Cream. It matched his car, Winona said, and George had liked to play it when they first dated. Kirk had yet to meet anyone else who liked this ancient stuff, including Bones. It didn’t stop him informing his friend at every opportunity that music wouldn't be what it was today if it hadn't been for these guys.

"Why you have this obsession with young, drug taking prodigies who died young is beyond me!"

"I'll have you know, “Jim said primly, “that Mick Jagger was still performing live on stage into his nineties."

"Thank God there aren’t any Vulcan rock stars or we’d have to suffer them twice as long as your Rolling Stone."

“ _Stones_.”

Conversations like this were McCoy's idea of foreplay and tended to end up with Jim being blown on a couch, a suitable hard surface on the Enterprise or in an alleyway someplace – the latter being McCoy's favorite venue because, although it hurt his knees these days, he said, it made him feel young.

Jim ran through the club district on Andevia. The vacation planet might have been famous for its beautiful views but there were still those who just liked to kick back and drink and over the years it had developed a wider variety of sites to maximize tourist credits. While it was less crime riddled than Risa, Jim couldn’t help wondering whether it had been such a good idea to have tempted fate by taking short-cuts down alleys flanking nightclubs, some of which were still buzzing with party–goers, but which he’d approached through deserted streets. Then he figured most small-time crooks looking to molest or mug a Starfleet captain wouldn't be up this early.

The route he’d planned took him about 5km. The hotel in view, he'd slowed to a walk and rolled his shoulders, fiddled with his music player, holding off going in because he was sweating so much in the humid atmosphere.

That was when he noticed the thick-set Andorian leaning on a wall across the road. He caught Kirk's eye and scowled. Normally Jim would have shot him his best don’t-fuck-with-me face, but he was under orders from McCoy so he made sure to look away. He grit his teeth, bent down and fiddled with his sneakers fantasizing about taking the guy out, working off some of this sexual tension through his fists. Sure, he didn’t do that kind of thing anymore, but it didn’t hurt to imagine it, did it? Anymore than it hurt to sometimes think about boning someone else.

One thing McCoy had made clear was that if he turned up on the wedding day with a black eye or split lip – he’d fucking kill him. He'd told Jim in no uncertain terms that half his aunts were convinced that, hero or not, he was a punk and he wanted to prove them wrong, show them that his taste in partners, after the Jocelyn fiasco, was much improved.

"So make sure you don't get beamed down anywhere." Jim watched Bones check his instructions off on one hand. "Don't so much as bump your head, and easy on the bare-back fucking for at least two weeks before the wedding. Oh, and no gettin' held hostage. Not so much as a dent on that pretty ass of yours, clear?"

Grouchy _and_ protective Bones. Nice.

If he recalls, they'd been late for their shifts that day seeing as the bare-back ban didn't officially start till the _following_ day.

Shit, the guy was walking towards him, cue James T Kirk diplomat extraordinaire, he thought, as he straightened to his full height – which came to the Andorian’s shoulder.

"Hey, you got the time?"

A classic ploy for a mugger.

"It's 6am,” Kirk said in heavily accented Andorian, standing his ground and making fists by his thighs.

"Ten minutes I've been waiting for a cab. This planet's a fucking backwater."

One thing Kirk had learned in his first few hours of command, even before he had the official gold, was that he could trust his instincts – the Andorian’s look of frustration was real. He relaxed, almost wanted to make it up to him that he’d thought ill of the guy.

"I'm getting married today," he heard himself say.

The Andorian smiled. "Fucking nice!" His antennae wobbled slightly as he nodded his approval.

Jim had noticed this a lot - people, everyone he told, seemed to be inordinately thrilled at the good news. Looked like romance would never go out of style.

"Well, if you're still waiting for your cab at 10am, swing by and join the party." Kirk beamed. "I gotta go shower." He told the guy the address and he skipped up the steps.

He wanted to savor his last breakfast as a bachelor and then head on down to the ceremonial hall.

***

06:30  
As he showered, Kirk thought about how the wedding plans had got right out of hand. He’d taken a back seat in most of the arrangements, leaving Bones to worry and direct concept in his control-freak way, while Chapel dealt with anything involving people. Given his position and given his fame, it was going to be out of the question that this would be intimate in any way. Most of the crew would be beaming down for the ceremony and those that couldn't, would be hooked in live along with his brother and sister-in-law, Bones' family in Georgia and a bunch of other people he didn't even know but that McCoy had assured him needed to be invited.

He could care less. He leaned against the shower wall and tipped his head back in the powerful jet of water thinking about all those times he’d shared a stall with Bones: just kissing, their bodies wrapped around each other, erections pressed between them, jerking each other off languorously, water flooding the bathroom floor when one of them barged into the door, the water mingling on their faces as their come washed away between their sated bodies; or when they teased each other under the waterfall then took it onto the bathroom floor, rutting madly with whatever bathroom unguent Bones assured him wouldn’t burn his dick off if, and would he just fucking hurry up already; or times when the fun didn’t start until they dried each other so carefully, paying special attention to ass cracks and cocks until the friction was too much to bear.

Shit. He'd got so sick of proposing he'd almost given up hope. Seriously, nothing else mattered – Bones was going to be his. Running his hands through his short hair and across his eyes he finally allowed himself to sneak a peek at his boner. He clenched his hands and stepped out of the shower amused by how Little Jim swung away form his belly only to be strapped into submission when he wrapped his towel round his waist.

Still glowing from his run, he put off dressing and decided to order up coffee while he looked at the route the cab would probably take. He should have stayed closer to the ceremonial hall but Bones had insisted he needed to give himself time to get in the mood before the ceremony.

“Trouble with you, Jim, is everything falls into your lap in life. You need to work for this. Earn it.”

Thinking about that drawl was waking Little Jim again – better run his mind through the map he’d looked at once but could remember in detail – allowing it to dwell on how the traffic could be a serious problem – that soon put his boner back to sleep.  
***

O7:00  
Dressed in worn jeans and a white t, he took the lift to the dining hall. Three hours to go. His stomach lurched again as he sipped his juice. Thank God he didn't have to worry about the rings - Spock was taking care of those or he'd have been bound to lose them. He suddenly dawned on him how much Bones had to handle in the past two months.

“Think worrying about your crew being boiled alive in space is stressful, you wanna fucking spend five minutes looking at wedding cakes, Jim,” McCoy grumbled at his side, while Kirk check-mated Spock for the third time in a row.

Kirk felt a calm about this whole thing that would have spooked him if he hadn’t felt so damn good. He stretched a hand out and squeezed McCoy’s knee without taking his eyes off Spock’s eyes, while he contemplated the blood-bath that was the board – the sweetest part of winning was spotting the almost imperceptible tic, usually near the corner of the Vulcan’s eye, which gave away the irritation at losing again to Jim’s ‘reckless’ approach. And the sweetest part of living was having Bones right there, hearing him bitch and knowing he was the only one that could soothe him later with his kisses and his cock, and that he would see that soft side to him no one else got to see. His Bones.

Jim snapped back from his reveries when he felt someone’s eyes on him. A very beautiful Orion girl winked at him across the dining hall. Shit, had she been staying here all night too? Well, that was just a waste, wasn’t it? He felt an automatic twitch in his groin – shit, maybe he should have jacked off in the shower after all. But a promise was a promise.

"Want you so fucking horny when I kiss you that you're gonna have to keep your back to the guests after, " Bones had whispered into his ear as they pulled away from their last kiss before they parted.

Sometimes he thought Bones was a sadist and not a doctor.

She'd seen him looking – with an Orion that was as good as having a two foot sign above your head declaring, FUCK ME NOW. He fiddled with his last forkful of waffles and made a big show of stirring his coffee even though he didn't take sugar since he was so damn close to thirty and needed to watch his waist line (so Bones told him).

He could smell her even before he looked up to a very tall, green-skinned goddess.

"Hi," she purred. Milk. It was the only thing that came close to describing an Orion girl – the smell of fertility and innocence all rolled into one. God he fucking liked their attitude to sex. And he _really_ liked tall girls.

"Can I join you?" she asked. “We could have sex.” Her tone was casual and light but her stare was very intense.

Who'd have known? Really? His cock twitched a little more - shit, if he couldn't keep a promise on his damned wedding day...

"We _could_ , I mean, I’d really like that, but I'm getting married today," he flustered and got up hurriedly, his knees tangling in the table cloth, dislodging his cup. "Thanks for the offer though."

"And you are an _old-fashioned_ guy as they say on your planet -"

Kirk chuckled, "Who'd have thought it, but yes, I am!” He paused on his way to the stairs. “Listen you wanna come, feel free, the more the merrier - you can meet my husband, Leonard McCoy. Well, he's not my husband yet, but he will be in a few hours." He was babbling. "10am. I'm serious - come along, there's going to be a bitchin' party afterwards and there are some good looking unattached men there. Some are even straight." He gave her the address and practically ran to the lift. "There's girls too, if you like girls.”

He could hear her laughing as the doors closed behind him.

***  
07.45  
Okay, music. ‘Cross Town Traffic’. The dancing would slow him down but keep his mind off things. He shucked off his jeans, and underpants - no underpants today - that would piss Bones if he picked his moment and whispered that in his ear.

Black suit pants, black jacket that came in at the waist a bit - showed off his ass, Bones said - not being such a stickler for tradition that he didn’t want to completely control what Jim wore on the big day. And Bones also insisted on cream linen shirt – linen made Bones hard because it creased like a mutha when you bunched it up in your hand and he liked the idea of covering Jim _and_ his clothes in bruises. The finishing touch were black shoes with a squared toe because it made him look Latino and slutty, so Bones said.

Shit, thinking about his voice, the way he was involved in every aspect of his life, made him melt.

Ah, The Doors, one more boogie but take care not to get all sweaty now he had his nice clothes on.

"Come on Bones-ey light my fire - " he crooned into the mirror, rubbing the tiniest amount of gel through his hair, the smell of coconut sticking to his fingers. He knew he’d have to be careful to wash his hands without splattering water on himself.

08.30  
Ready.

He picked up his wallet, his comm, slipped them into his back pocket and left the room. He had one and a half hours to get there. It was a forty-five minutes cab ride, which would give him plenty of time to circle the block, meet elder Spock and make his entrance when the Vulcan gave him away. Maybe he’d even have the opportunity to sneak one of Chekov's lovely Russian cigs before the ceremony – he’d make sure to comm him from the cab and prime him and get him to bring mints too, so Bones didn’t lecture him.

"Your cab's here, Captain Kirk."

He uncrossed his legs, put down the news console and nodded at the receptionist.

"I'm getting married," he said.

"I know, Sir," she said, smiling broadly. "You mentioned it already."

In the cab, he took his wallet and comm out of his pants - too tight to keep them there – and rested them on the seat.

Most traffic on Andevia was at road level with just cops and VIPS in hover-vehicles. As they waited for the lights to change, after just ten minutes in the cab, Jim could see he was in for a slightly longer ride than he’d anticipated. Damned stomach.

"Hey, can I grab a coffee - need some sugar, ” he asked the cab driver. “I'm getting married today!" he said in an effort to warm the guy up. A Big Day treat – wouldn’t kill him.

The cab driver looked at him in the rear-view mirror, "That's great news." he said flatly.  
"Wanna wait here and I'll nip out and get one?"

 

He nodded and fiddled with his navigation device.

***  
08:50  
Kirk collapsed on the back seat, coffee and muffin in hand, and _big_ , fucking mistake, the lid popped off the coffee and spilled all over his pants. Shit!

He stood up in the cab, smacked his head on the roof and scrabbled at his crotch, the scalding coffee dangerously close to his groin. Thank goodness he'd set off in plenty of time.

"Hey, you got anything I can wipe this with?"

"No."

"I've scalded my balls here man, I need _something_. I'm, getting married."

"You want I should pull over again."

"You'd better- I can't get married in stained pants."

The cabdriver pulled over. "I'm keeping the meter running."

"Of course -" Bastard.

He pulled up outside some chi-chi men's clothes store. Perfect. It was gonna be hard without Bones, but this wasn't too challenging - after all, simple black pants – how hard would it be to match them to his jacket?

And, looking at the gorgeous black haired guy sidling up to him, this was going to be a hell of a fitting.

***

"A starship captain? _Really_?"

The shop assistant wasn't focusing...

"And I'm getting _married_."

"OO, tell me what he's like..." Four possible pairs of pants were spread on the counter.

"Beautiful. The love of my freakin' life, sexy Southern drawl, tall, grouchy..." He showed him a pic on his comm. “A doctor…” his words faded. He looked down at the shop assistant who was measuring his inside leg and had come up against his... _shit_.

They both looked at his nascent erection, and then held each others gazes for a heavy moment.

"Captain?" from the floor, on his knees.

"Yes-"

"You, erm..." the guy really didn’t seem in any hurry to move his hand away. Kirk had forgotten what this was like – he’d forgotten how everyone seemed to think about sex all the fucking time, himself included. The last few years, it wasn’t so much that he’d stopped thinking about it, it was just that usually Bones was the star in his internal movie powered by testosterone but- --shit this guy really was pretty and his mouth was just a small nudge away from his -

Kirk took an awkward step and backed into the rail.

"Listen, another life time and all, but I _am_ getting married and..."

“So you don’t want to _try these on first_?”

Jesus, the guy had loaded up the words with so much innuendo he’d need to brush him off quick. Kirk shook his head and thumbed towards the road. “Gotta cab waiting.”

"He's a lucky guy-" the shop assistant said, popping the pants in a bag, taking Kirk's card. “I've put my card in the bag - just in case you're ever back in these parts."

" _I'm_ the lucky one...hey, you wanna come meet him, it's at 10am."

He gave him the address – hell, why should Bones be the only one to get to invite folk?

Still hard, and stepping back out into the hot air, Jim couldn’t help wondering if he had _please help get rid of my boner_ tattooed on his forehead or something.

 

***

09:30  
Kirk almost didn't dare look at the meter. 'Sorry I took so long."

"Hey, your credits-"

They pulled out but the traffic had ground to a halt.

He wondered whether it would be okay to comm Bones. Over twenty-four hours without him and it was beginning to suck. It had been awhile since they'd been apart for longer than a shift and months since they'd spent the night apart. Maybe he should comm Spock and tell him he was making good progress.

Come to think of it, where was his comm?

He ran his hands over the back seat, folded over to look at the floor but nothing.

"You lost something?"

"My comm."

"Ah, can't trust anyone these days."

"You think it got stolen?" He wondered if he'd left it in the clothing store. He could call later maybe - "Last I saw, it was on the back seat." This was unreal, it was 9.30, rush hour traffic penning them in - it wouldn't be worth doubling back.

"I saw some guy look in the back seat while I was waiting for you."

"Why didn't you stop him?" Kirk squawked.

"Do I look like an idiot? Guy was mean looking. 'Sides, he only _looked_ in the back seat -"

Kirk decided to shrug this off. He still had a good half hour.

"How far away are we?" he sighed, all the wedding excitement suddenly out of him.

"Hard to say...traffic's bad this time of day..."

No shit...

"I could do with another coffee-" he said.

The cab driver looked at him in the rear view mirror. “After what happened last time?"

"I never did drink it - and I've kept my spoiled pants on until we're closer - what do you think? I could pick one up for you too?"

"Sure. Make it a mocha."

They pulled over and Kirk sprinted into the coffee house, sprinted back, handed a cup to the driver through the window and scooted into the back seat. "I'll leave the lid on this time."

"Good idea."

Sprinkles - he'd earned them.

***  
09:45  
"I need to get changed into these suit pants," he informed the driver.

"Maybe I shouldn't ask," the guy said over his shoulder, "but why didn't you jus' get changed in the store?"

"Guess, I could have kept them on, but I was in a big hurry, didn't think straight. Anyway, eyes front, I'm getting changed-" He wriggled out of his suit trousers, grateful the shirt covered him up some - boy he wished he'd put underpants on. It was tricky with the shoes, so he took those off too, then as the cab crawled past a garbage chute, he bundled his soiled pair of trousers, leant out of the car window and threw them in.

"Nice pants," the driver said, sipping his coffee.”- and I saw your ass when you leaned out of the window. Didya leave your underpants in the store too?"

"Oh. Sweet Lord."

He'd picked up the wrong bag - or the assistant had handed him the wrong bag or something. All there was in the bag was a pair of running shorts - shit, shit, _and shit_.

He'd have to put them on, he couldn't very well turn up in naked from the waist down. He slipped his shoes back on, Latino slut indeed...

“Shorts?” the driver said.

“I thought I’d said eyes front.”

“Hey man, not that I give a shit, but you can’t go to you own wedding dressed like some frat boy.”

Jim was more worried about not getting there at all.

"Do you think we've got time to go buy some more?"

"Long as the meter’s running, I've got all the time in the world. Not you, though - you should know it's wedding minus twenty minutes-."

He could carry this off - maybe, once he was there, he could delay the ceremony and send out for his suit trousers. Shit, if only he could comm the store.

Kirk gnawed at his knuckle, willing the traffic to move faster,.

"You think I should get out and run?"

"Your wedding- and you do have shorts-"

Then something caught his eye - a young mum with a hover-stroller, and she'd stopped to walk round the front, crouch down and talk to her kid. Her purse was hooked over the handle, and Kirk watched as a young guy in sunglasses picked up the bag and walked purposefully in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" Kirk threw open the cab door and put one foot on the pavement.

"What the fuck you doing now?" the cab driver asked.

"I'll meet you there!" and he was off sprinting after the mugger. "I'll get it back for you, ma'am, "he shot over his shoulder as he dodged a car to get across the street. He could see the guy's blue hair dodging around along the rush hour sidewalk and it didn't take long before Kirk had caught the kid up, grabbed the bag and used the force of that movement to pull him to the ground. "Asshole!" he bellowed, pinning the sprawled assailant to the sidewalk with his free hand. Scrawny kid.

Next thing he knew, there was a strong pair of hands on his shoulders and he was being dragged backwards by two cops while the mugger bitched and moaned about how he'd been the one who'd been mugged.

"I can explain! Please let me explain...I'm getting married today." Unbelievably, he was in the back of the cop car.

"I can see that, Sir, by the appropriate attire." Well, he did have a point. "ID, sir?"

Kirk held up his thumb, as if he was hitchhiking, but what he wasn't to know was that on Andevia, this gesture meant _stick it up your ass_. The cop pulled him out of the back seat and slammed his head down across the hood of the car where he could shake him more easily.

***

"Officer!" The young mum had arrived to save him.

Charges were dropped. They used his thumb to find out he was a Starfleet captain, godammit, and there was no sign of the cab. He'd left his wallet on the back seat and he was late - all that was missing was a pocket watch and a rabbit hole and the image would be perfect.

In the kerfuffle, he'd noticed a couple of other cops had pulled up, one on a bike. He was currently cooching the baby - the keys were in the ignition - he'd be able to sail above the traffic on this.

It didn't take him a second to consider and ten minutes later he was parking up outside the ceremonial hall.

Shit - what was he going to say to Bones?

***  
12:30  
The smell of flowers was overpowering.

McCoy sat at the front of the hall, his feet up on a chair, jacket on the floor. Kirk looked over his shoulder at the waiting cop, held up his hand to indicate ‘five’ and the cop nodded, stepping back to give them space.

“A leopard never changes its spots,” McCoy said quietly without looking up. “That’s what they said.”

Kirk clenched his jaw. "They don't know me."

"No. Sometimes, I wonder if I know you, Jim."

He crouched next to McCoy and ducked his head so he could see his face under his bangs. His eyes were wet, his jaw clenched. He hadn’t seen him look like this since after the Narada and Jim had materialized in the transporter room with Pike, bloodied and beat up.

“I’m sorry. Stuff happened…” He knew then that this was a story he’d have to save for their grandchildren that here and now, with him in his shorts and Bones trying to keep it together in the empty hall, it would have been too ridiculous, disrespectful even, to try and explain. And Bones instinctively agreed.

“Save it, Jim.” His voice sounded like it had been pounded between rocks.

Kirk slid his hand into McCoy’s. He didn’t resist and gripped him hard. “I thought something had happened to you…you had second thoughts…

“My only thoughts have been about you for five years, Leo.”

“Why couldn’t you do this one thing?” He stood and scooped his jacket up. “And who the fuck are _you_?”

The Andorian. Kirk’s grin split his face he was so relieved at breaking the tension. He punched him on the arm. “So you got your cab-“

“Yeah, he’s waiting outside. I took a detour - but the traffic sucked. Looks like I missed it, eh?”

“Well, you’re not the only one,” McCoy said, pulling his comm out of his inside pocket.

“One to beam up, Scotty. The captain’s got unfinished business down here.”

“No. Wait!” Kirk grabbed his arm. “At least wait for me to settle up here.” The cop had disappeared but the Orion girl was walking towards them.

“I heard all about you over breakfast!” she purred, stretching her hand out in greeting towards McCoy.

It pained Kirk that the last thing Bones would have seen as he became a swirl and disappeared was the shop assistant running down the aisle, holding his pants aloft and panting, “Captain Kirk - you forgot these!"

***

McCoy had answered Kirk's comm to meet him in the observation bay. It didn't seem so strange - they'd fucked up there a few times - not that many in the past year. Maybe Jim was feeling romantic. He hadn't proposed to him again in at least six weeks. He was a sucker for punishment, but McCoy couldn't see the point of changing things now. He'd never felt disappointed in Jim before the wedding day that never was. He'd slowly climbed back from this and he wasn't going to jeopardize their new found equilibrium any time soon.

The doors opened like curtains on a performance. There he was. It was just Jim. Naked.

"Jim. I --"

"Shush, Bones. Just sit down. I need you to see something, to agree to this."

He guided McCoy to a chair which faced the star field.

How could he do this? How could he stand there, naked like that, and not feel any embarrassment?

"Jim." It was a warning. He knew what this was about.

"Bones. I'm sorry. I've told you a million fucking times, "he bent down easily to pick up his underpants from a pile of clothing just behind him, "and if I need to tell you another million times, so be it. I'll do it." He stepped one leg, then another and hitched them over his thighs, tucked his cock away and McCoy felt a slight pang. So there wasn't to be any starlit sex, okay, what then?

"I want to make it up to you. Will you give me a chance?"

"Jesus, Jim, I -- "

"Hear me out?"

He reached for McCoy and touched his face gently, his eyes soft and warm like a tropical ocean.

"But why are you naked?" was all he could think to say.

"I'm not, I'm wearing underpants." Kirk glanced down at himself - but it wasn't as if he needed to check.

McCoy had to stop this, he could feel that old fear welling up inside. He had so much here already with Jim, nothing needed to change and if this went wrong, they might risk losing everything. This was good enough - shit - how many times did he need to tell him?

Once more at least, it seemed.

"Before you --" McCoy tried.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm _yours_ , Bones," Kirk said, pulling him to his feet. "That this - " he guided McCoy’s hand to his groin and held it there so he could feel the slight hardness, the warmth radiating from it, the familiar shape of it against his palm, "is yours. And _this_ \--" he pulled the hand up to where his heart was and splayed McCoy's fingers for him, "is yours. And _this_ \--" McCoy's hand rested on his forehead, "is yours too." His face was close, he could feel Jim's breath on his hand where he held it, he could see the coal black outline drawn around Jim's irises - he was an artist's study in perfection and yes, _his_ and he couldn't help but yield to Jim's kiss, which sealed his words to his heart.

"I love you, Bones,” he whispered into his ear as he pulled away.

"I know you do --"

"And I have to prove it in front of everyone who's dear to me."

"Really, Jim, you don't. It's fine. Things are just spiffy the way they are. We don't need to fuck things up."

"They're the ones who need convincing - I know it's not you." Kirk gestured behind McCoy - they were alone but he realized now that soon they wouldn't be. He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he had a coat or something he could cover Jim up with. It wasn't jealousy just an overwhelming need to protect him.

He needed to think, to gather, but he couldn't with Jim standing so close so he stepped away and scanned the observation deck. There were the usual cushions and mats but spread around in a symmetrical arc facing them and the star field. And he could see plants, lots of them in their containers along the back wall - how could he have not noticed their scent? Another look at Jim's graceful, leanness still baring the tan from shore-leave and he forgave himself with an eyebrow lift. Jesus, he looked like some kind of warrior with those scars only he saw close-up, ones that he'd licked over, evidence of wounds that he'd repaired as best he could. No one else could begin to draw the map of Jim Kirk.

But, he realized, he couldn't protect Jim. The only person who could do that was Jim Kirk. Sure, he could patch him up, love him, _want_ him, but Jim stuck his neck out willingly, honestly taking more risks in an average week than he had in his entire fucking life. He felt a tear or something well up in him and he had to look away for a second.

Still wasn't going to ever stop trying.

"You gonna get dressed?"

"Don't you like me like this, baby?"

"'Course I fucking _like_ you - you look like goddamed Adonis, you bastard, but I don't get why you're naked - "

"I'm wearing underpants."

"And if you ever call me baby in front of anyone, including a pet dog when we finally retire, I will fuck you so hard you'll have to sit on a tire."

"And that's a punishment?"

Jim leaned against the screen, the galaxy moving past them fast. It might have been a fresco in a chapel - if he could only work out the symbolism, if only his heart would stop thudding like this so he could think. Jim pushed away and strolled the short distance to the communicator smiling at McCoy all the while - no, let's be honest, it was a smirk - exuding charisma and authority even semi-clad.

"Kirk to bridge, Mr Spock. We're ready."

Now he understood why it was the observation deck. It wasn't just because it was romantic up here, spiritual, it was also a theatre in which rituals could be played out.

"Ready for _what_ , Jim?" Yes, this was it. "We getting married here?"

”Here," Kirk said simply. He licked his lips.

"Stop doing that."

"What?"

"Licking your lips."

Kirk frowned, "I thought you liked it - "

"Too much, Jim. And get dressed. I don't want everyone seeing you like that."

"Why, Bones? Worried they'd wanna fuck me?"

Kirk was in his space again, forcing him to get a grip on his heart rate.

"'Course they want to fuck you. Nero probably wanted to fuck you. It's just - I don't want them --"

"The crew have forgiven me, Bones. They love and respect their captain."

"How could they resist you?" he grumbled.

"I sent a comm a couple of weeks ago asking for their help in this."

"You laid a trap?"

"With the best bait money can buy, huh?" he said without a trace of shame.

They both turned to the doors as they swished. Spock , Uhura and Sulu, all smiles.

"Nice flowers, Sulu!" Kirk grinned. "Don't you think, Bones?"

Bones folded his arms. Nodded. Scowled. And really tried not to look like the push-over he was.

"Here, Leonard." Uhura took his elbow and moved him towards the seat again.

No one seemed to find it odd that their captain was semi-naked.

"Glad to see you haven't brought your fucking lyre, Spock."

"It would have been illogical to create a sense of irritation on your wedding day, Doctor, especially since you have demonstrated on more than one occasion that you have little ability when it comes to controlling your emotions." He raised an eyebrow. "I have, however, created a unique recording for you and the captain as a wedding gift. You may wish to share it on your honeymoon."

McCoy laughed and let Spock join Uhura on the cushions. Was that a smile he'd seen in the hobgoblin's eyes? The Vulcan never ceased to surprise him.

He looked at Jim who had been listening to their exchange with eye-rolling amusement. He took the captain's outstretched hand, turned his back on the officers but now utterly transfixed by the beauty of his captain. He remained dimly aware of people coming in, but everything had now become about Kirk's mouth. Maybe five minutes had passed with him deep-breathing, loving Jim, waiting and finally there was silence behind him.

"Leonard Horatio McCoy," Jim said. "I love you. I don't believe in fate - well, not generally - but sometimes I wonder if all those things that happened that morning of -- well, maybe they _had_ to happen to prevent us from getting married there. Do you think, Bones, that all along we were meant to get married here, on the Enterprise, in our home?"

McCoy felt his mouth open. He heard music from behind him and he recognized it as a tune Jim was particularly fond of dancing to in his underpants.

Oh, _no_...

But Jim didn't dance. Instead he began to dress himself. He did it slowly, delicately, eyes on McCoy's face throughout, only glancing away to find a boot or sock - and he realized this was a kind of reverse strip tease. Jim was wrapping himself up, putting himself away from the many eyes he knew must be behind him. They'd been permitted one last look.

And he carried on talking, his voice clear, strong and something of the captain in it. He knew how to project his voice to the back of a room but there was a warmth to it, an intimate timbre so he might have been whispering in his ear.

"Maybe, Bones", he zipped up his uniform pants, "It should have been here all along with our real family."

He pulled his black undershirt over his head and down over his those sensitive nipples, tucked it in and then bent down to pick up his dress shirt.

McCoy was thankful that he had his back to the crew, this alone made him harder than hell. Shit, like it hadn't sunk in or something but his lover, his fiancé, dammit, was a starship captain.

"Maybe all those obstacles that got in the way, maybe all of them happened so that we could be here, now -"

"Jim, I-"

"Remember this song?" Kirk had stepped towards him, held out his hand for McCoy to take. He was talking just to him now, his voice quieter, conspiratorial.

"Uh-ha..."

"Think anyone else will know it?"

"Maybe -" he lowered his voice, "You aren't going to -"

"I'm dressed now, Bones. It's just you who gets to see me like that, remember? Just you," he whispered back.

McCoy nodded, his heart swollen like wood soaked in the river of his feelings for this extraordinary man who wanted _him_.

"So, Bones?"

He held Jim’s hand - the door swished behind them and for the first time Bones felt an inclination to look and see who it was. He was blinded by a sea of faces - all of the crew must have been there and Purple Haze was playing - it was surreal, crazy and broke all the rules. Just like Jim.

Admiral Pike winked at Kirk, walked slowly and deliberately past McCoy and smiled at him. He still spent a lot of time in his chair but he'd made the effort today. He faced the crew. "Well Captain, Commander - you guys getting hitched this time or what?"

"Come on, Bones, gimme a break, fuck even the universe gave this relationship a second chance." He dipped his voice so only McCoy could hear, "I could’a’ ended up with a Vulcan husband."

That did it.

"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor not a rock star- I know when to stop. Yes!" McCoy grumbled.

Kirk just had time to grin over his shoulder at Pike and with perfect timing with the song, McCoy whispered into his ear, "Scuse me while I kiss this guy." And he pressed the length of his body against Jim’s , interlocking fingers at their thighs and did just as he promised he would - he kissed the sky to thunderous applause (and not a little whooping) from everyone present.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

 **FIN**

Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I had writing it - let me know!

The Masterlist of all my fanfiction is here 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to this prompt _(03) A series of unfortunate events hang Jim up on the way to the ceremony, causing him to seriously and totally not show up. Legit stuff that's not his upfuckery, but of course everyone's all yep, Jim Kirk, love'em and leave'em, and McCoy is kind of crushed. Jim can't really prove he didn't fuck up, so when he eventually arrives, after everyone's gone, he has to make it up to McCoy and woo him all over again and eventually get him to the altar one more time._ on Challenge 'Space Married'
> 
> Also, : two things inspired me in this randomness:
> 
> Firstly,  Jimi Hendrix and his whole fooling around with the lyrics in Purple Haze substituting “kiss the sky”, for “kiss this guy” and thereby placing the cornerstone for misheard lyrics love.
> 
> And secondly, a story told by stand up, Ricky Gervais, who told of a friend who replaced some pants, threw the originals out of a train window and was left in his underpants. Never let it be said that ideas of solely mine – unlike the schmoop which was.


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